FROM FENIANS TO FARCE.

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(NOTE : for details of the three up-coming Dublin Easter 2008 Republican Commemorations , click here, here and here.)
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FROM THIS….

HENRY JOY McCRACKEN :

” It was on the Belfast mountains I heard a maid complain.
And she vexed the sweet June evening with her heart broken strain
Saying “Woe is me, life’s anguish is more than I can dree.
Since Henry Joy McCracken died on the gallows tree.”

At Donegore he proudly rode and he wore a suit of green
And brave though vain at Antrim his sword flashed lightning keen
And when by spies surrounded his band to Slemish fled
He came unto the Cavehill for to rest a weary head.

I watched for him each night long as in our cot he slept
At daybreak to the heather to MacArt’s fort we crept
When news came from Greencastle of a good ship anchored nigh
And down by yon wee fountain we met to say good-bye.

He says “My love be cheerful for tears and fears are vain”,
He says “My love be hopeful our land shall rise again”.
He kissed me ever fondly, he kissed me three times o’er
Saying “Death shall never part us my love for evermore”.

That night I climbed the Cavehill and watched till morning blazed
And when its fires had kindled across the loch I gazed
I saw an English tender at anchor off Garmoyle
But alas! no good ship bore him away to France’s soil.

And twice that night a tramping came from the old shore road
Twas Ellis and his yeomen, false Niblock with them strode
My father home returning the doleful story told
“Alas”, he says, “young Harry Joy for fifty pounds is sold.”

“And is it true”, I asked her, “yes it is true”, she said.
“For to this heart that loved him I pressed his gory head,
And every night pale bleeding his ghost comes to my side,
My Harry, my dead Harry, comes for his promised bride.”

Now on the Belfast mountains, this fair maid’s voice is still
For in a grave they laid her on high Carnmoney Hill
And the sad waves beneath her chant a requiem for the dead
And the rebel wind shrieks freedom above her weary head.”

…TO THIS.

As Liam Mellows predicted in the Treaty debate,on 4th January 1922 – “Men will get into positions , men will hold power , and men who get into positions and hold power will desire to remain undisturbed and will not want to be removed.”
Poor Mellows – even he could not predict just how low – to discuss the drinking habits of fictional characters in a soap opera – that those ‘positioned men’ will go in order to integrate themselves with their new-found ‘friends’. McGuinness and his like are truly an embarrassment to all things Irish , not to mention the shame they continue to visit on Irish Republicanism . He should stick to ‘Drama Critic’ comments in future and leave the issue of British interference on this isle to those of us that are still prepared to try and solve that problem . Of which he is a part.




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About 11sixtynine

A mother of three and a political activist , living in Dublin , Ireland.
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